


Sore Morning

by Auggusst



Series: The Soldier And The Scientist [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Rough Sex, Embarrassment, Funny, Humor, Lord help him, M/M, Teasing, clint cant keep his mouth shut, poor steve feels awful about it, steve and tony die of embarassment, the team makes fun of them, thor cant come to the phone right now im sorry he took a weekend trip, tony is so sore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 05:50:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auggusst/pseuds/Auggusst
Summary: Two or so months into their budding relationship, Steve and Tony get a little too frisky, and as a result, Tony isn't in tip top shape the next morning. The two hope the rest of their team will take mercy on them and abstain from mentioning it, but families will always make the most of an opportunity to lovingly embarrass each other.





	Sore Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I went to the state fair and had a great time on the rides, until I bashed my tailbone hopping up into a seat. That was all fine and good, despite the fact that I can't sit right now. But then I noticed the bruise on my thigh from being pressed against the seats by gravity, and I also noticed the one on my back from being shaken around. No fun allowed I guess. Oops.  
Still worth it.

The team was halfway through breakfast by the time Tony came literally hobbling into the kitchen. It was only ten thirty, but the brunet’s appearance made it seem a lot later. His hair was especially wild, and a bathrobe wrapped around him, an extra layer of warmth above his long PJ pants and tank top. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and his lips were turned down into a frown. That wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, as Tony was an avid morning hater, but usually he was a little more put together. Right now, he could be mistaken for a hungover college student instead of the mature (debatable) man he was.

In direct contrast though, his cheeks were tinged pink, and just there, barely visible in his deep brown eyes, was a hint of satisfaction, of happiness and direct ignorance of his surroundings. He squinted at them, all sat around the breakfast nook, made a noise that could potentially be interpreted as a greeting, and turned to the coffee machine.

Steve slid out from his seat as the others grinned at Tony’s behavior, crossed the kitchen in a few strides, and gently wrapped his arms around the brunet, pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He was glad the brunet had finally woken up, as when he left the bed a few hours ago to start his day, it seemed as if Tony would never make it out of his room. It was just down the hall though. The team tended to gather on his floor, the penthouse, instead of sticking to their individual apartments. It was nice, Steve thought, to have them all together like this in the mornings, before their schedules pulled them different directions or a threat interrupted their day. He felt content around his teammates, and that contentment only surged higher when Tony walked in the room.

“Good morning,” Steve said, holding open the cabinet door for Tony to reach up and pull out a mug. He hoped the rest of the team would be none the wiser about the brunet’s behavior though. Maybe they would think he was just tired, or maybe the mission they went on two days ago was just catching up with him. Steve hoped they hadn’t noticed Tony’s limp, or if they did, that they wouldn’t question it.

“Muh,” the scientist replied to Steve’s greeting, turning on the machine. He was too exhausted to say more, and he knew _exactly_ who to blame, and it happened to be the man hugging him. Oh yes, Tony was in pain.

Last night had been incredible, hot and mind-blowingly sexy, but boy was he paying for it now. Tony had surprised the blond with a little extra bedroom spice in the form of two lovely black leather-lined handcuffs, and wore a leather harness that emphasized his ass _just so_, and the soldier, for lack of a better word, attacked him. They went for three rounds, and Tony enjoyed every second of it, was too caught up in the excitement of it all to remind the blond to take it slow. Steve fucked him well, ravished him enthusiastically, and Tony kept spurring him on, too turned on to think as he was locked against the bed by his wrists, at the blond’s mercy. He forgot his own limits until it was over, and he drifted off to sleep splayed halfway cross the bed, Steve curled around him. All in all, it was one of the best nights of his life, but god, was he paying for it now.

“Real articulate,” Clint quipped at the brunet’s muttering, grinning over his pancakes.

“Shut up,” Tony replied venomously, pressing his face into Steve’s shoulder. He didn’t have the strength for a better response. He was tempted to smack the blond away from him, for what he had put him through, when Steve’s hand rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. Tony didn’t doubt for a moment that their teammates would pick up on it quickly. After all they were highly trained individuals. It was rare something got past them.

“You feeling alright?” Bruce asked, sipping on his tea. He seemed genuinely concerned, but Tony was sure he was just covering, didn’t want to point out the obvious. Bruce was a good friend like that. He couldn’t appreciate it though, couldn’t appreciate any of it with the way his knees felt a little too much like jelly and he couldn’t bend in certain angles. He was sure his wrists were rubbed a little raw from the cuffs too.

Steve interjected, straightening his posture a little. He felt the need to cover the scent. He enjoyed last night, immensely, but was rightfully afraid of whatever jokes the team would make if they knew. Tony had wailed loud enough to figuratively break glass, moaned a lot and called Steve’s name, among other outbursts. The walls were soundproof in the tower, but still, Steve worried. He hadn’t exactly been quiet either, said some things he would be embarrassed to admit now, went a little wilder than usual. But could that be held against him? The mere thought of gripping Tony’s ass, watching the way the luxurious black straps of the harness cut across his tanned skin, was almost enough for him to pop a boner right here in the kitchen. They’d only been together for two months; it was impossible not to desire Tony.

But that would be the opposite of helpful, so he steeled himself and devoted his attention to diverting the conversation. “I’m sure Tony’s fine,” Steve answered for his partner, slipping his hands down to grip the brunet’s waist. “Right, sweetheart?”

Tony jumped at the touch, groaning a little as those fingers sunk into sensitive skin. By his estimate it would take about a week to feel completely better, and as much as he loved their little bed time soirees, the brunet would not be letting that super soldier dick anywhere near him for at least 72 hours.

“I’m fine,” he grit out, pouring himself some coffee. He gripped the mug tightly, partly in irritation at Steve’s sorry attempt at covering up, and made his way across the kitchen to join the others. Only, it wasn’t easy going. There was a distinct stiffness to his motions, and he moved slower than usual, expression a tell-tale sign of his pain. There was no way it wasn’t obvious.

Steve followed, avoiding eye contact with the others. He could feel his face heating up, felt shame pooling in his chest. He couldn’t see himself at the moment but was positive he was turning pink. The color on his cheeks only increased as Tony set his mug down on the table and ever so slowly lowered himself into the seat, unable to stifle a long groan at the pain in his lower half as he hit the bench.

Natasha took one look at Tony, and another at Steve, and shook her head, the slightest puff of laughter leaving her lips. She knew. She _always_ knew. “Gonna be alright for today’s training exercise?” she asked knowingly, smearing jelly on her toast.

Tony’s lips formed a sneer behind his coffee mug as Steve’s brows gravitated downward.

The blond took a big gulp of his orange juice.

“I’ll be fine,” the scientist muttered before finding at least a little solace in the perfectly sweet brown liquid in his cup. He inhaled the aroma, savored his sips. He was half tempted to just come out and say what went on—Romanov already knew clearly—but his pride wouldn’t let him. Plus, Steve looked as if he wanted to curl up and die at his side, so there was that. He couldn’t embarrass the blond more. But Barton was in the room, and that spelled disaster either way. “Just hurt myself in the lab,” he lied.

Steve sent him a thankful glance, and tried to act casual, taking a helping of scrambled eggs from the skillet resting on the center of the table.

“You hurt your backside?” Bruce asked unhelpfully, stirring his beverage. His brows were raised in a chastising fashion over his glasses. He didn’t say more, but the parent-like ‘What did you _do_?’ was inferred.

Tony frowned once more. Dammit, Bruce. “Yeah,” he said indignantly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He tried to smooth it down, suddenly aware of how wild he looked. “That’s a thing that happens. People fall on their asses all the time.”

“Totally normal,” Steve replied between bites. “Though I wish you’d be more careful,” he offered.

Tony shot him a dark glance. “Gee babe, sometimes it’s just out of my hands. I’m not to blame this time.”

The blond swallowed hard. “Well technically… I mean—you… you were the one who wanted to _work in the_ _lab_,” he protested, crumbling a little under the intensity of Tony’s gaze. Yeah, he was upset. Steve had the decency to feel guilty though.

“Right, because _working in the lab _is so awful,” the scientist replied, turning to look more directly at his partner. “Maybe I should stop _working in the lab_ completely!” he threatened. He wasn’t _mad_, and wasn’t regretful, but it was a little unfair in his eyes, that he was struggling to sit straight on a seat while Steve woke up peachy keen like any other day and moved around with ease. Tony was disappointed in himself most honestly, that he let his horniness get in the way of his bodily comfort, and not for the first time in his life. He let out a huff of annoyance, leaned forward into Steve’s space.

Unfortunately, his fidgeting allowed the sleeve of his robe to slide off his shoulder, and it revealed a few perfectly purple bruises on his collarbone, a short distance splayed between them. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that they were the imprints of Steve’s fingers, and if Tony were alone, he would think that was really hot, but right now they were just another billboard announcing to the group their nighttime activities. He didn’t notice them though, too wrapped up in speaking in code (if it could even be considered that.)

“N-no!” the blond exclaimed at the threat. No more fooling around? That was the _last_ thing he wanted. Hell, he could barely go three days without the urge to run his hands all over his boyfriend, and he knew Tony was capable of keeping a grudge. If he denied the blond now, there was no telling how long it would be for. Steve was not looking forward to a dry spell.

But there was a more immediate threat at hand, and when his blue eyes fixed on the delicate bruises marking the brunet’s tanned skin, his heart jumped in his throat. “I-I mean—Keep, uh, keep working. Please,” the soldier replied, tugging the robe up Tony’s shoulders quick enough that there was no way it could be interpreted as casual.

Tony practically died at that, and was about to answer, but was interrupted.

Barton laughed suddenly, capturing everyone’s attention. “Holy shit,” he said, grinning at the two of them. Apparently he’d figured it out finally, that they weren’t talking about a lab accident at all. Tony couldn’t believe it had taken him this long, but he knew it would take twice as long for the archer to drop it. The brunet covered his face with the palm of his hand, rested his elbow on the table.

“You two fucked too hard! Oh man, that’s hilarious. Jesus, Steve, you _animal_. Stark’s ass is so sore he can barely walk! I can’t believe this. I mean—wow!”

Steve looked as if he wanted to sink under the table.

To his horror, Clint just continued, laughing and making jokes until he was red in the face, until it wasn’t even funny anymore, and the others watched him with shaking heads, Steve and Tony itching to disappear from the awkwardness.

“Alright Clint, that’s enough,” Natasha said finally, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. Steve’s gratitude was expressed in the lowering of his tensed shoulders.

Barton wiped his tears at her touch, his laughter finally drifting off. “Oh come on Nat, it’s hilarious!” he protested.

The redhead was done with it though. “It was funny for a minute, but it’s time to stop. Or should I tell them about the time you got your penis stuck in—“

“_That’s_ enough of that!” Clint chuckled nervously, reaching over to cover her mouth. She blocked his arm and pinned it to the table. “Nat,” he muttered, eyes insistent, almost pleading. Suddenly he regretted laughing.

“What?” she replied softly, using her other hand to raise her glass to her lips. There was the faintest hint of a smirk there.

“You win, alright? I was just teasing. You two make it too easy,” he said with a sigh, turning his attention back to Steve and Tony as the spy released her grasp on his wrist.

“We can agree on that, Barton,” Tony sighed, finishing his coffee. He licked his lips. “Steve here needs to work on his lying skills.”

“Hey! You weren’t exactly subtle either,” the blond groaned behind the hands covering his face. He let them slide down and rest on the table.

“Sorry, but my ass hurts. You can’t expect me to be subtle about anything when I feel like an entire arm got shoved up there!”

“_Tony_,” Steve sputtered, inhaling sharply. He did not want to have this conversation at all, especially when the brunet was going to be so crude about it. Steve wasn’t a prude really, but… he didn’t exactly like going over the details of his bedroom activities with the others.

“Tell me you didn’t,” Bruce interjected, eyes wide at the implications.

“I didn’t!” Steve protested, frowning heavily. God, could he get any more embarrassed? Maybe Tony had the right idea about stopping _working in the lab._ If it saved him from another situation like this, maybe it was worth the blue balls.

“He didn’t,” Tony replied, backing his boyfriend up. Bruce visibly relaxed at that, and sighed heavily as the brunet continued. “But it sure feels like it.”

“Tony,” the soldier repeated, warningly.

“Steve,” the brunet replied, deadpan. Maybe embarrassing the soldier a little bit would make up for it all, since Barton already had a go at them. The blush on Steve’s cheeks was adorable, and if Tony’s lower half weren’t absolutely _throbbing_, he’d love to jump on that. He couldn’t help but grin a little.

Steve sighed and shook his head in disbelief. What a morning it was turning out to be. Mortifying, but also enjoyable. He marveled at the juxtaposition for a moment. He pressed a kiss to the brunet’s forehead, and playfully shoved him away. “You’re a pain in my ass,” the soldier said with an affectionate sigh.

The scientist leaned up and gave a return kiss to the blond’s cheek. He brought up a hand, pulled Steve closer by the collar of his shirt so they could kiss properly. “More accurately, sweetheart, you’re a pain in mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed.


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